


write our names in ash

by dytabytes



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Harm to Children, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 11:16:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2810240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dytabytes/pseuds/dytabytes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before Gamora and Nebula were enemies, they were sisters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	write our names in ash

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jairissa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jairissa/gifts).



> Wow! This has been a wild ride. Thank you so much to my lovely betas, who I would never have been able to finish this fic without <3

Gamora leans against the wall of cell that she is being held in, one of the dozens of children that Thanos had "harvested" from her planetary system. What his purpose in taking them is, she still isn’t sure, but it can’t be anything good.

She shivers despite herself.

It's dim and cold in here, enough that she wishes that she could wrap her arms around herself and curl into a ball, but her mother's voice rings in her ears.

"You may be scared, my darling, but you must never show it. Stand tall and proud, no matter what." She had brushed her fingers over Garmora's cheek, then, and kissed her brow. "We may lose many things, but we will always have our pride."

It had been one of the last things she had said to Gamora, before the Mad God's soldiers had broken the barricades and overrun their city. For all that the memory stings, it comforts her too, knowing that she is holding herself just like her mother must have when she made her last stand as Captain of the Guard.

"Aren't you tired?"

Gamora glances at the girl who is sitting on the other side of the cell and raises an eyebrow. "No."

"Oh." The girl scrubs at her face and fidgets. "Okay."

She's not of the same species as Gamora, not with their skin colours being so different in hue, but it's still obvious that she's from the same planet. If her clothing hadn’t been a hint, her proficiency with Gamora’s native tongue makes it clear. For the first time, Gamora takes a closer look at her cellmate, curious about her fellow survivor. Baby fat still clings to her body, showing in the slight pudge of her fingers and the soft roundness of her face. _Weak. She won't survive._ Gamora thinks to herself, then immediately hates herself for it. Just because her captor is cruel, that doesn't mean that she has to be.

"If you want to rest, I'll keep an eye out." She shrugs and looks away. "If anyone comes, I'll wake you before they get too close."

The other girl stops wringing her hands to tilt her head at Gamora. "Really? You'd do that?"

Her smile makes something quiver in Gamora's chest. She doesn't quite smile back, but she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and nods. "Yes. I will."

"Thanks." The girl curls up into an even tighter ball somehow, and rests her cheek against her knees. "I'm Nebula."

"... Gamora."

"That's a pretty name," Nebula murmurs, and then her eyes fall shut before Gamora can respond. Not that Gamora wanted to say anything else. She's not a monster, but getting attached to someone else, especially someone as small and weak as this girl, well. That's obviously a bad idea.

 

* * *

 

Getting attached had not only been a bad idea. It had been a _terrible_ idea.

Earning the right to be Thanos’ daughter is not an easy task, but doing so while trying to keep another candidate alive at the same time is even harder.

 _She won’t make it,_ Gamora tells herself every night. _She’s too small and too soft. She’ll die tomorrow, and you’ll feel stupid, won’t you?_

But where she is physically weak, Nebula is smart for her age, and fast, and she _hasn’t_ died yet, so the hope in Gamora’s heart keeps growing, despite her best efforts to tamp it down. They may not make it, but maybe… maybe they will.

_And if we survive this, we can survive anything._

The current test is one of the strangest that Thanos has posed. Previously, trials had been straightforward, if bloody. They had been thrown into obstacle courses, or made to slay ravenous beasts - tasks that were difficult, but easy enough to understand. Thanos wanted children who were strong. This round, though, Gamora had woken up here with nothing but her clothing, her knives, and a simple, chilling message: “Escape or die.”

Ever since that point, she has been wandering the halls of the maze, ostensibly searching for an exit, but mostly keeping an eye out for a flash of blue against the blank white walls. After days of battle, finding herself in the stillness of this labyrinth is strange, almost creepy. Part of her wonders if there even is an exit to this place, if maybe Thanos has given her an impossible task in order to watch her die.

Her distraction becomes her downfall. She misses the whisper of cloth on skin that would have warned her of another person’s presence, only realizes that she isn’t alone when another form barrels into her, screaming, “I’ll have your blood!”.

Her assailant’s blade bites deep into her shoulder, and Gamora’s hand spasms, dropping her blade.

“Why?”, she asks as she dodges away, holding her remaining knife out in an attempt to ward off more attacks.

She recognizes this girl now, but they are practically strangers. Their interactions have been rare, limited to the bare necessities, and Gamora can’t imagine why Laira would have a motive to kill her.

“I need it to escape,” Laira hisses, and with that confusing statement, she lashes out again.

Gamora does her best to fight back, but even the frantic energy of being near death can only do so much to even the odds. The wound curving over her shoulder is deep, limiting her range of motion, and the shock is making her lightheaded. She soon finds herself backed up against the wall, struggling to stay standing.

 _So this is the end,_ she thinks.

But then there is a dull thud, and Laira crumples to the ground. There’s that flash of blue that Gamora had been searching for.

“Are you okay?” Nebula reaches out to help Gamora stand. “Wait, that’s a dumb question. You’re not okay,  but are you going to survive? Let me see.”

Gamora nods, gritting her teeth to stop herself from crying out when she moves her arm the wrong way.

“I heal fast. It’s fine.” She looks away to hide her lie, and her eye catches on the wall.

“Wait, what’s this?”

Her blood is splattered liberally over the once white expanse, and wherever it touched, there are deep pits, as if it had been touched by acid.

“She said that she wanted my blood…” Gamora murmurs as she looks down at Laira, unconscious on the floor, then back to Nebula. “That’s how we escape. Blood weakens the walls of the maze. With enough of it, we should be able to carve out a door.”

Nebula goes pale.

“Is that really the way?”

Everything makes sense now.

“The Mad God got his name because he tries to court Death, and we’re fighting for his pleasure. It’s only surprising that we haven’t had to kill each other _before_ now.”

Gamora bites her lip when she looks back at Laira, knowing what she has to do.

“Turn around.”

“What?” Nebula asks, confused.

“My injuries have already softened this part of the wall, but we need more.” Gamora thinks this must be how her mother had felt at the end as she pushes at Nebula’s shoulder. “Turn around, close your eyes, and we’ll be out of here.”

“No! We’re in this together.”

“You’ve never killed anyone before, Nebula. Even when we were in that pit with that monster, you kept trying to knock it out instead of end it." Gamora reaches out, squeezes Nebula’s shoulder gently. “Let me handle this.”

"I have to kill _someday_. It might as well be now. When it's easy."

Nebula bites her lip, but doesn't look away. There’s a light of determination in her eyes that Gamora can’t argue with. She shakes her head, defeated.

"Fine. Help me hold her up."

Doing the deed is harder than it had first appeared. For all that she looks slight, Laira is heavy, and Gamora only has one hand. It takes a lot of struggling to create a hole big enough for the two of them to escape, and even then, they barely manage to crawl through.

When they make it through, it's into a dark, stony hallway. Gamora's breath catches. She remembers this place from when she had first been taken.

"This is the Sanctuary. We're on Thanos' ship."

Her stomach sinks. This could very well be the end of the trials. From Nebula's expression, it's clear that the other girl realizes this too.

“I …” Nebula’s hand clenches around the handle of her knife. "Wait."

She slashes her palm quickly, clasps Gamora's shoulder before she can move away.

"What are you doing?" Gamora's eyes are wide. This... she hadn't been expecting this.

"No matter what's happened so far, the one thing I'm glad about is that we met. And now we're sisters." Nebula smiles, and her expression is beautiful even smeared with red.

Hesitantly, Gamora raises her hand to cover Nebula's. She can't quite stop the edges of her lips from tipping upwards.

"Yes. Sisters."


End file.
